Disclaimer: still not mine…
Implied yaoi etc… Set way, way after Arslan retakes Pulsar.
After an economics lecture fried my brain this idea developed.
The sun was already set upon it’s journey over Ekubatana, illuminating the citizens in the streets going about their business and the grand corridors of the king’s palace. Slanting in through one particular balcony it picked out tangled bedclothes, enveloping two late sleepers. One lying on his stomach, long hair spread out about him, seemingly using the other as a pillow. Not that the other seemed to mind. Lying on his back, blue eyes following the play of light against the ceiling, pausing now only to brush a strand of white hair out of his face. “Mmm.” He began, followed by another “Mmm”, slightly louder this time, raising his head slightly to peer at his partner. “Go away, I’m old.” Came the clipped reply, in the ever-precise tones of the King’s strategist.
“Narsus…”
“No!”
“You don’t even know what I’m going to say yet!”
“I’ve got a fair idea. They didn’t call me the Devil’s Strategist for nothing!”
“They still do, you know.”
“Really?” Narsus lifted himself up from the pillows to peer at Daryoon.
“Of course… even though you’re old.” Daryoon grinned up at him.
“Old and withered and unattractive.” All said with a theatrical sigh.
“Unattractive? Never.” Daryoon wound his arms round Narsus’ waist, pulling him back down. He traced the delicate lines now visible at the corner of an eye, a cheekbone that now stood out on stark relief, threaded his hands through the long, almost waist-length hair.
“This.” Daryoon said, hands still tangled in Narsus’ hair, “This I don’t believe.”
“Just because your hair’s gone white.” Came the laughing reply.
“You must be dyeing it.”
An arch look was the only reply.
“You’re only a year younger than me!”
“Ah, but you’re pure Pulsian. I’m not.”
“Meaning?”
“I’ve got at least another 10 years before I start looking as old as you do! Oriental blood will do that, you know.”
Daryoon sighed, this was a debate they’d been having ever since his own hair had begun to grey. Narsus had said it made him look distinguished and Daryoon had heard the whispers among courtiers and soldiers alike that he was beginning to look more like his uncle with each passing year. And Narsus… despite the passing years was still, to Daryoon’s eyes, just as wise and beautiful as he’d ever been. Daryoon’s reverie was broken by the wicked glint in his lover’s eyes as Narsus bent to kiss him. Rolling them over, so that Narsus was on his back, Daryoon’s last fleeting thought was that he’d only been about to suggest they go to breakfast.
A very short, sweet interlude.
A bit of an in-joke too… Aung 02 & Count D will know what I’m on about.
- Narsus (29/01/02)